Steve Forrest and Vera Miles leave Pittsburgh with their sons, Ron and Clint Howard and move to Jackson Hole to farm. However, despite friendly Mountain Men, the big rancher won't let them have any water, and their farm starts to dry up.
It's an agreeable movie to spend a couple of hours with, with some spectacular scenery shot on actual location, but despite the competence of everyone, it looks like they were striving for something and missed it. Was it director Robert Totten, the man whose the previous year's DEATH OF A GUNFIGHTER was the birth of Alan Smithee? Cinematographer Frank Phillips, who compositions show so much baby-blue sky that you don't see the people? The Howard brothers, who performances are monotonous? The post-Walt habit Disney had of reducing everything to blandly heartwarming? I'm not sure, but miscalculations like that turn what could have been a fine movie into one that is good.
